LYSANDER     I am, my lord, as well derived as he,

As well possessed; my love is more than his,

My fortunes every way as fairly ranked

(If not with vantage) as Demetrius’;

And (which is more than all these boasts can be)

I am belov’d of beauteous Hermia.

Why should not I then prosecute my right?           (1.1.99-105)

Lysander seems more worried about being seen as inferior to Demetrius: I am, my lord, as well derived as he—I’ve got connections, I’m nobly born, at least a gentleman!—and I am as well possessed, a man of property; I’ve got a decent estate too, you know! It’s not that I’m a complete nobody! And, what’s more, my love is more than his! I love Hermia more than Demetrius does! But then he circles back, just to reinforce his earlier point, still smarting being deemed less eligible than Demetrius: my fortunes every way as fairly ranked (if not with vantage) as Demetrius’; I’m his equal, even his superior in terms of wealth and status. But that doesn’t matter! That’s not the issue here (as if he’s getting a grip, catching Hermia’s eye, honestly, men, BOYS) I am belov’d of beauteous Hermia. That’s what matters: I love her and she loves me. We love each other! Why should not I then prosecute my right? I’m just laying claim to that which is my own already; we love each other, we’ve made promises to each other and that should be that! Oh Lysander, unable to resist the pull of male rivalry, the lure of getting one over Demetrius as much as protesting the strength of his attachment to Hermia. (Heavy, heavy sigh from Hippolyta, and perhaps from Theseus too. What fools these—young—mortals be.)